


A Visitor in the Night

by unwillingadventurer



Category: Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Genre: Crime and Cricket, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 13:15:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21055010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwillingadventurer/pseuds/unwillingadventurer
Summary: Bunny is wrenched from his warm bed when Raffles visits in the dead of night. But what does he want?





	A Visitor in the Night

It was a chilly, damp night when Raffles arrived at Mount Street. Unlike a normal person arriving at the front door, he emerged through the window, climbing into the room as the early morning dense fog accumulated outside. He appeared at my bedside in a long cloak as though he were Count Dracula and I his next victim. And like a vampire, he leaned over me and I was paralysed with fear, for at this moment I had no idea it was he and I was convinced a murderer had come to call.

“Bunny,” the voice whispered. “Bunny, wake up!”

A murderer knew my name! But as my tired mind processed the information, the voice became clear and I realised it was not some ripper, killer or lunatic but instead my Raffles sitting on my bed, smiling widely as I turned on the light with urgency.

“Raffles!” I cried. I looked at his face. Though he was not some murderous fiend, he had a strange pallor and beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. “It’s four in the morning! Are you trying to put me in an early grave?”

“Of course not, my dear fellow.” He climbed into the bed with me, wrapping the blanket around himself. “Chilly night, isn’t it?”

Despite the excitement I felt at Raffles’ body close to mine, I folded my arms in a huff, determined to be annoyed with him for his intrusion. But one smile from those devilish lips and I was powerless to remain so. “You could have stayed warm and dry in your own bed and bothered me in the morning.” At least I still had the power to speak my mind. “Anyway, there’s a strange invention now, you may know it, it’s called a telephone. I made you have it installed!”

“And have us overheard by the police or any number of eavesdroppers? I think not, my Rabbit.” I felt his hand upon mine. “My word, Bunny, your hands are like ice!”

“That’s probably because I’m freezing and you woke me up from my warm little cocoon. Have you ever known an October so cold? I can see my breath every time I speak.”

He took my hands in his and rubbed them tenderly until I could feel some warmth coming back to them. Raffles didn’t seem to quite feel the elements as much as I and rarely complained if it was scorching hot or a mini-ice-age—I think he would always use the weather to his advantage somehow. And yet, he was so pale, as though sickling for something.

“Well then, what is this thing that was so important it drew you from your bed to mine in the early hours of this cold day?”

He sat up then, straightening, and looking to the middle distance and I noticed the glint in his eyes—that spark of excitement—that energy that came from within him when he was passionate about something. Strangely I also detected a slight hesitance in his expression, which for Raffles was quite peculiar.

I sighed. He had crime in mind. He usually did, and he especially seemed to have crime in mind on cold autumns when I would rather be bed, dreaming the night away without any thought to what scheme would be next. 

“What makes you think it’s something important?” he asked.

I threw the covers off, reached for my dressing gown and shoved him out of the bed. “I’m sorry to be so ungallant, A.J, but you’re up to something. I demand an explanation.”

He laughed then, one of his hearty chuckles and I was flummoxed as to what he found so amusing.  
“I do love it when you’re defiant, my dear Bunny.”

“I’m parched,” I said, feeling my lips smack together with the dryness. “Shall we get a cup of tea?”

“Why not?” he replied.

…

Stirring the tea, I caught a glimpse of Raffles as he looked at me from the other side of the table. He was definitely staring at me. Was he observing my hands as they held onto the silver spoon? Did he find something interesting about the way I made tea? 

“Something catch your eye?” I said in a satisfyingly flirtatious manner.

“Always.”

“What’s so fascinating about my making tea?” He was about to reply when I threw down the spoon and folded my arms. “Oh, I see. It’s the spoon glistening silver in the early morning light. Somehow the beauty of it has captivated your senses.”

He smiled. “You have me all worked out don’t you, Bunny?”

I handed him his tea. “Too right.”

“Alright then, tell me, what do you deduce about me now? Why am I here this morning?”

“Oh, I don’t know, you probably have plans to burgle Buckingham Palace and then we shall go on the run to the south of France and own a vineyard.”

I must admit I was being facetious but I was never one for acting correctly when I was dragged from a warm bed.

“As tempting as that sounds, I’m afraid you’re way off the mark.”

“But it is crime?” I took a long sip of my tea, content as the soothing liquid warmed my insides.

He pursed his lips and then took out a cigarette case from his inside pocket. He offered me one to which I declined and then I watched as his slender fingers caressed one of the Sullivan’s before placing it gently into his mouth. I continued to watch as he took out a match and lit it until he was surrounded by a cloud of swirling smoke.

When the smoke cleared a little and he was visible, I waited for his response.

“It’s not what you think it is, Bunny. I’ve been tossing and turning all night with thought of it.”

“Really? That’s not like you.”

He smirked. “Have you got it figured out yet?”

I was not in the mood for these games. “No. But what else but crime?”

He stood up and threw his cape over his shoulders, making his way toward the now lit fire. He seemed to stare at the embers for several moments. If only I could hear those thoughts of his whirring about in his complicated mind.

“A.J, are you quite alright? Has something happened, are you hurt?”

He spun to look at me. “I…well…I suppose you could look at it as a kind of sickness.”

I raced over to him and knelt at his side, taking his hand. “Oh, A.J, I’m so sorry, I entreat you, tell me what you are suffering from!”

I imagined all manner of horrible diseases at that moment. Tuberculosis, typhoid, malaria, bubonic plague, anything that man had ever contracted throughout history regardless of whether it made sense.

He helped me to my feet, grasping my arms and staring into my eyes. “It’s not all suffering, my dear Rabbit. Some symptoms are quite invigorating. It’s just the insomnia, loss of appetite, butterflies in the stomach that I confess are somewhat new to me.”

“I don’t follow you.” I grabbed my cup, taking an awkward sip.

He laughed. “Bunny, my visit here is not for crime. Well, unless you wish to call it a crime of passion.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Of undying passion for you, my dear Rabbit.”

I dropped my cup, sending tea and china all over the floor. “I…what…the..did…you…say?”

He took my hand in his. “I love you, Bunny. Could I make it any clearer?”

A strange noise emanated from my lips but no words formed and I stared open-mouthed at him like a fish. True, I had loved Raffles for many months, years even, loved him with every fibre of my being. I’d even told him so, first on drunken nights as we sat cosily at the Albany, and later when I was sober and wanting him to notice me. He cared for me, this I knew, but to be loved by him in return? This, I never dared hope.

“Why didn’t you just say so?” I said, suddenly feeling a little irritated. “Why all the riddles?”

“That was my way of building to it. I don’t like confessions, Bunny, hope to never make one ever again. I was hoping you’d guess it.”

I laughed. “Oh, A.J, I thought you were dying! And all this time you were in love. I feel like shouting it from the rooftops!”

“I’d rather you didn’t, my boy.”

“Then why are you just standing there and not kissing me?”

He laughed as his fingers ran through my hair. “I do love it when you’re indignant.”

His lips found mine and it was the most beautiful moment of my life. I wouldn’t mind being woken and dragged from a warm bed every morning if it was a confession of love from A.J Raffles!


End file.
